All That I Could Do
by underthestreetlights
Summary: <html><head></head>Four ways in which Lizzie and Darcy find their way to each other. And one way they don't. (A series of what ifs and hypotheticals.)</html>


**all that i could do**

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><p><em>You told me you wanted<em>

_Something more from me_

_And it was all that I could do._

_Half of Something Else _- The Airborne Toxic Event

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><p>Life is a series of choices. What to wear, who to be, yes or no, and so it goes. Sometimes these choices can completely change everything. So pick an option and let us go...<p>

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><p>option a.<p>

Let's say George Wickham was never in the picture. Maybe he'd never existed. Or he was connected to some different family, in another country maybe. Perhaps he'd been murdered like the sick douchebag deserved. But anyway, we digress.

Let's say that as a result of this, Gigi had never been hurt and hadn't needed to stay in San Francisco for the summer. Maybe she'd gone to the Gibson wedding to make sure her brother put away his work and like, actually socialised for once. She also makes sure he doesn't wear that ridiculous newsboy hat (because William, who wears a _hat_ to a _wedding_?) and of course the bowtie (that's really self-explanatory).

As a result of this, Lizzie doesn't form her initial impression of him as a soulless, joyless newsie, and it changes things. Drastically.

Will is definitely more open around his sister. He smiles more (that is, he actually smiles at all) and he actually attempts at engaging in polite wedding discourse (although this is mainly due to Gigi digging her elbow into his side if he's silent for any period of time). He's still awkward, but he's trying.

Gigi joins the horde of women vying for the chance to catch the bouquet (because why not) but even she can't get Will to join the bachelors. She decides not to press. But it hits him anyway (and she hides her smirk because this is going to be fun).

When he's dancing with Lizzie Bennet, one of three sisters (of which the eldest had already spent most of the evening with his best friend) they have a (somewhat stilted but not too awkward) conversation. She has this energy to her that he finds infectious.

And maybe after the wedding when Mrs. Bennet is fist pumping because she managed to match up not one, but _two_ of her 'pathetically single daughters', Lizzie can't be too annoyed with her because she's still thinking of the definitely not dubstep DJ guy with the dimples and the hipster glasses.

And eventually they find their way together to a happily ever after.

But maybe this is too easy? Then head to option b.

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><p>b.<p>

Let's say Caroline wasn't at Netherfield during that July Lizzie and Jane were. There a number of things that would have probably gone different, we can assume. First, maybe she wouldn't have seen how close Jane and Bing have gotten and by the time she realises and tries to break them up, it's too late. And (most importantly, if you're biased) she would not have been there to be the figurative (although almost literal at times) wedge between Lizzie and Darcy.

Without Caroline, things would probably have gone very differently. (Or perhaps not - you'll never know.)

Lizzie arrives at Netherfield looking forward to spending the next two weeks with Jane and embracing the fact that there will be no dramatics from her mother or Lydia (in her vicinity). (Although she realises that a) Jane will probably spend a lot of time with Bing, and b) that _William Darcy_ will be there. She's only consoled by the fact that Caroline is in Los Angeles doing whatever she does for a job.)

One night, halfway through the first week of their stay, Jane and Bing go out, leaving Lizzie and Darcy at Netherfield by themselves. (There's something bad just waiting to happen, thinks Lizzie, and she locks herself in her room pretentiously aubergine-coloured room.)

Darcy cooks. Or he tries to. He ends up burning dessert but the main goes okay, and Lizzie's expression of shock when she enters the kitchen is half directed at the smoke coming out of the state of the art oven, and the other half because Darcy _cooked_. She'd always assumed he had people for that kind of thing.

They eat, and they're actually civil for once, although still awkward.

And after dinner when they're both pretending to watch that movie neither of them are actually watching, Lizzie thinks that maybe Will Darcy isn't so bad.

And when they've both had a little too much of Bing's best wine to wash down the pasta, he leans over and kisses her just once, barely a touch and Lizzie has to reevaluate everything she thought she knew about Will Darcy.

(And she learns that maybe, it's not always a bad thing to be wrong.)

Too happy? Then skip to option e.

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><p>c.<p>

"Let me guess, your sister suddenly remembered some previous engagement she can't get out of and has left you alone to show me around the city."

He looks sheepish. "I apologise for Gigi, she's - in your words: 'crazy'. If you'd like, I mean if you're not comfortable, we can do this another day, I probably should've called ahead to-"

"Darcy," she says.

His head snaps up.

"It's okay. I'd love to see the city with you." And she does. In fact, she doesn't want to admit it, but there's a part of her (quite a large part, actually) that is glad it's just him today.

His smile spreads across slowly and it makes it just a little harder to breathe.

They visit all these beautiful San Franciscan tourist attractions, starting with Chinatown, to the winding Lombard St. and Ghirardelli Square where Lizzie pretty much drowns herself in chocolate heaven. They talk and she finds out more about the real Will Darcy in those few hours than she ever did in the previous months of "knowing" him. She finds out that his favourite song is an old record his mother used to play in the mornings, he has a habit of tapping the bridge of his stupidly attractive hipster glasses when he thinks, and that his favourite poem is an old Neruda piece. Then they walk down to the Marina and share dinner because somehow they've been out the whole day without realising how fast time has passed.

And when he takes her home and walks her up to her apartment they stand there outside her door, looking at each other for an interminable period because neither of them wants the day to end just yet. (Or maybe ever.)

So she invites him in - for coffee.

He stands there a little awkwardly observing her borrowed bookshelf and when she returns with the coffee he turns and gives her this smile and it scares her to pieces because she has never wanted anyone like this before.

So she kisses him because he's wearing those stupid glasses and that stupid leather jacket and she just doesn't want to think about it anymore. She just does it.

Somehow they end up in her bedroom in a tangle of sheets and half-discarded clothes and she thinks that yes, happiness is fleeting, but this is worth the wait.

Want something just like this? Then go to option d.

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><p>d.<p>

What if he'd read the signs wrong? (He was certainly proficient at doing so.) What if it all goes wrong? Maybe this is a bad idea, maybe -

But, no. He's going to try again; he has to know.

_Actually, Gigi has an engagement, so it would just be you… and me._

The silence stretches on in the most cliche way. He swears he can almost hear the ba-doom ba-doom ba-doom of those terrible TV shows in the interminable silence before the announcer announces the new Masterchef or whatever. (Gigi loves that show, Will tolerates it.)

She turns to him, smiles, and says… yes.

He almost doesn't hear her over the rush of tightness in his chest.

_Yes._

His face must look like how he feels because she giggles and tells him he looks petrified. And all that he can do is smile back and try to suppress the pounding happiness inside.

And then they both futilely attempt to actually work through the rest of the afternoon.

He picks her up at seven and they drive to the theatre.

They watch a production of Beauty and the Beast, holding hands through the entire show. They have dinner at a nice restaurant and take a walk down by the Marina and when it gets late and he goes to take her back to her apartment.

_Take me home with you, she whispers._

And you know how this ends.

It ends like it always does.

(They fuck and it's happily ever after, right?)

(Or maybe you should check out option e.)

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><p>e.<p>

Lizzie never calls. Neither does Darcy.

(Because she couldn't possibly have felt anything more for him than potential friendship, he thinks. And of course there was no way he could still love her, she thinks. Not after everything that's happened.)

She tries to remember and he tries to forget. And in the end they both forget. (But not fast enough.)

Lizzie succmbs to her mother's wishes and marries an art student with messy dark hair and hipster glasses. He's tall. She buys him scarves in summer; she tells him she likes the look. They don't have any children; she's too busy with her career for that. Mrs. Bennet despairs.

Darcy lets his aunt arrange a business type merger-like marriage. The girl is perfectly nice. (She has pretty eyes.) They have two kids and Pemberley flourishes. By night he reads Tolstoy to himself.

They see each other once at Jane and Bing's wedding four years later. They smile and nod.

And life carries on.

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><p>Please tell me what you think because this is purely experimental and I'd like to know if you think it works or not (or how it could work better). Thank you :)<p> 


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